


Far From Home

by arabmorgan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - The Little Mermaid Fusion, M/M, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:03:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8232229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabmorgan/pseuds/arabmorgan
Summary: Tony has a tail, but what he really wants is a pair of legs, and he'll give anything to get them. Unfortunately, this might turn out to be a case of 'the prey is more bountiful in the other ocean'. At least he's got an attractive prince to see him through this ordeal.





	1. Landlocked

**Author's Note:**

> So Tony is kind of a sheltered Daddy's boy and I think I screwed with characterisation a lot in this one. Also, just think of the kingdom as an Earth-version of Asgard, with a curious mix of technology and swords.
> 
> But it was _so_ much fun to write, so I hope it's fun to read as well! I swear I'll get around to the final bit of Sacred Simplicity and the next part of The Original High soon; it's just that I finished this like three weeks ago and really wanted to post it :)

_So I could probably have thought this through better._

It was a thought that Tony Stark was no stranger to, and as he sat on the sand staring at the most attractive human he had ever laid eyes on, with no effective way of communicating with said human, it was a thought that returned with a vengeance.

To be fair, he _had_ been warned that Obadiah was a tricky bastard who couldn’t be trusted, so this mess was kind of on him. But to be just as fair, Obadiah _was_ a tricky bastard who couldn’t be trusted, so it couldn’t _all_ be pinned on Tony.

* * *

“So you want to be _human_ , young Stark?” A jolly grin lit the old sea wizard’s face, and Tony flashed a confident smirk in return.

“Yeah, think you can do it?”

“Can I do it?” Obadiah boomed in disbelief. “You think you’re the first youngling to want a pair of legs? I could whip the potion up for you in my _sleep_.”

Tony’s grin widened into something a tad more genuine, the tension leaving his shoulders. “Great!” he said brightly, tail sweeping back and forth to steady himself in the little eddies swirling about Obadiah’s lair. “So what do you want for it?”

Every one of Obadiah’s tentacles gave a little twitch at that, as if in excitement, and Tony swallowed nervously, trying not to think of the billion warnings Dad had drilled into him about the cunning sea wizard.

“That _is_ the question, isn’t it?” The unnervingly mer-like face smiled at him in an overly-paternal manner. “I won’t ask for much, my boy – just a little thing in exchange. Your voice, perhaps?”

Tony’s brows shot upwards so fast he actually drifted away from the floor of the cave. “My _voice_?” he repeated. “Why would you want my _voice_?”

Obadiah shrugged. “It’s not that I particularly _want_ your voice, dear boy. It just seems like a harmless part you could do without, don’t you think? Or would you rather exchange an arm for a pair of legs?”

“Er.” Instinctively, Tony laced his fingers together behind his back. “No, definitely not an arm.”

Obadiah watched him patiently, that secretive smile lingering quietly in that sinister bearded visage.

Finally, Tony shrugged. “Okay, fine, my voice. Do I get it back when I get my tail back?”

This time, it was the sea wizard’s turn to raise his brows. “Your voice is a _payment_ , young Stark, not a deposit. You’ll get your tail back after three days, but I keep your voice.”

“Three _days_? But that…that’s nothing! And how will I communicate with the humans if I can’t talk?” Tony exclaimed, fins bristling with outrage. “If I get the legs, do I get the language as well?”

“You’re a demanding one, aren’t you?” Obadiah chuckled, one of his dark tentacles raising to wave disapprovingly in Tony’s direction. “The spell will last for three days only, unless you want to give me an arm as well, so be sure you’re in the water before the sun sets, or you might very well suffocate to death, and that would be unfortunate, wouldn’t it? As for the language…”

There was a significant pause, and Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you need _another_ payment for that,” he grumbled, his tail flicking sulkily to and fro, sending glints of bright red glittering all over the cave as his scales caught the light.

The old sea wizard nodded approvingly. “ _Now_ you’re getting the hang of it. A little pain, perhaps?” His teeth flashed, sharp and discouraging. “Would that be worth understanding the land-dwellers’ speech? Just a bit of pain with every step.”

“Um, how much pain are we talking here? Like, a fish nibble or a shark bite?” Tony frowned sceptically. On the one hand, there wasn’t any point walking around on land if he couldn’t understand the natives, but on the other – well, pain was _pain_.

Obadiah mirrored his frown for a moment, before a sudden glint lit his eyes. “Set aside the pain for a moment, boy. You can have the language, and in return, how about a wager?”

Tony’s grin returned full force, a challenging tilt to his lips. “Yeah? What wager?”

“Get a human to fall in love with you in your three days on land, and not only will I return your voice, you will get to keep your legs for as long as you want. For the rest of your life, if you so desire.” The sea wizard’s voice deepened with what sounded a lot like inappropriate excitement. “If you fail, then you return to the ocean as before, but I get your eyes as well.”

Tony stared at Obadiah, uncertain if he was kidding at first. “Maybe I should just go for the pain thing,” he ventured.

Obadiah smirked. “The great Tony Stark, unable to seduce a human? I suppose I should know better than to believe all the rumours I hear anyway. Very well.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Back to –”

“ _Wait_ ,” Tony cut in, eyes narrowing. “Let’s say I accept your wager. How would I know if the human is in love with me? Is there some sort of…mating ritual? Do they walk in a certain way?” He curved his hand through the water in a vague representation of the traditional mating dance of the merfolk.

“Hm.” Obadiah spent a moment stroking his beard thoughtfully. “I’ll make it easy for you, shall I, boy? Just get the human to say those three words to you – ‘I love you.’ That will be enough.”

Tony had to hold back a laugh. Just those three words? _Anyone_ could say it without truly being in love with him.

“Deal,” he said, and he reached his tail forward to smack against one of Obadiah’s slimy tentacles.

The sea wizard smiled in satisfaction. “Deal,” he repeated.

* * *

Everything had gone swimmingly after that, except for the fact where he’d passed out about two heartbeats after downing Obadiah’s suspiciously goopy potion – but he’d woken up on the beach, breathing just fine, and with _legs_ , so he figured the potion had worked after all.

He spent a long time inspecting his new legs. They were so _strange_ , although they were pretty much exactly like arms, so he supposed he basically had four arms now. He was halfway to becoming Obadiah – which was a thought that made him snort.

And _no sound came out_. Not from his mouth or his nose, not even a whistle or a wheeze – just plain, empty, unnatural silence that freaked him out more than a bit.

 _It’s cool. You were expecting this, remember?_ But the panic washed over him anyway, his hands going to his throat as he tried to squeeze even the faintest sound out into the open. Even on a scale of Stupid Decisions Tony Stark Has Made, this almost certainly ranked at the top.

He looked down, wanting to whine – and all of a sudden, he saw a disturbingly large indention – as large as his _fingertip_! – in his stomach. When had he gotten wounded? It was slightly puckered, but no blood was visible, nor was he in any pain. Hesitantly, he prodded at it with a finger.

It kind of tickled a little. Emboldened, he began to explore it more thoroughly, but it proved merely to be a shallow depression that led nowhere and appeared to serve no particular function. Just another reason humans were strange.

Beyond that, where his legs sprouted from his body, was yet another strange appendage. It was small and disturbingly floppy, and he took a moment to pray fervently that it served _some_ purpose he had yet to discover. He definitely didn’t want to consider the possibility that Obadiah had messed up the potion and given him a non-functional third leg.

Just about then, he realised that a shadow was looming over him, which meant that there was a _human standing behind him_. Right behind him. Within touching distance. He was so excited that he had to take a moment to calm his breathing before he twisted around with a huge smile.

_Oooh. Nice._

Admittedly, the human didn’t have the happiest expression on his face at the moment, but that didn’t change the fact that he was _extremely_ good looking. Shoulder-length, slicked back dark hair, aristocratic nose and a deliciously strong jaw, not to mention those _eyes_. Tony couldn’t quite tell what colour they were because the man’s face was in shadow, but they looked suitably piercing.

How exciting it would be if he could get this stern-looking man to fall for him.

Tony had kissed his fair share of merfolk, both male _and_ female, but the females weren’t really doing it for him just yet. He’d lost count of just how many mermaids had interpreted a few innocent (or not-so-innocent, really) kisses as a promise of a mating dance. He wasn’t _ready_ for that kind of commitment – why couldn’t they understand that?

All he wanted was a kiss or two, not to fertilise all their eggs the next day! At least the mermen tended to be more obliging and less demanding – he assumed the same applied to human males.

He might want an ‘I love you,’ but he would prefer to avoid any misunderstandings about procreation along the way.

Unfortunately, instead of responding to Tony’s smile in the expected manner, which would be to smile back, the man sounded extremely offended when he said, “ _What_ are you doing?”

Tony’s face fell when he realised that the human was staring at the floppy, possibly-third leg in his hand, and he immediately let go of it. _Shit_. What if he was deformed, and the man was disgusted by him?

No, no. He was fine. He could just write on the sand and explain –

Which was pretty much when he realised that _understanding_ the language didn’t necessary translate to being _literate_. He had _no damn idea_ how to write a single thing in human language.

Great. Amazing. Thanks a _lot_ , Obadiah.

Which was around the time that a very familiar thought popped into his head.

_So I could probably have thought this through better._

Well, there was nothing Tony was better at than making the best out of a bad situation. Probably because he tended to find himself in many bad situations.

But as he stared up at the frowning man, he couldn’t think of a single way to communicate his thoughts to the human, and he was seized with the sudden urge to scream in frustration.

It must have showed in his face, because the man’s expression shifted slightly, just a very faint tightening around his eyes that disappeared. “Are you well? What are you doing here?” Again, the frown deepened. “Where are your clothes?”

Tony had no idea what he was talking about. What were _clothes_? Helplessly, he shook his head, adding on a shrug for good measure.

Why couldn’t he have bartered away his sense of smell instead of his voice? He _needed_ his voice!

The man lowered himself so that he was level with Tony. “Can you speak?”

Tony relaxed at that, a smile bursting into being – finally, a question he could answer! Violently, he shook his head, raising a hand to his throat once more.

“Are you…lost? Do you know anyone who lives here?” The human trailed off, looking about the empty beach with a distinctly unhappy expression when Tony shrugged in answer to both questions.

Finally, he sighed and asked, “Do you have a name?”

Tony beamed. Luckily, he had always paid attention to his human anatomy classes. With great enthusiasm, he pointed to the big toe on his right foot.

The human’s gaze followed, but he continued to look baffled. “Leg?” he tried. “Foot?”

Tony shook his head hard. How difficult could this be, _seriously_? Just to be extra helpful, he wiggled his toe.

The man raised his brows. “Toe,” he said flatly.

Tony nodded hard, and then pointed to his knee and waited for the appropriate body part to be named. And then it was just a matter of pointing from his toe to his knee, and back again.

It took a while to sink in, but finally the human said slowly, with a tone that Tony felt was much too judgemental to be polite, “Toe-knee. That’s your name? Toe-knee?”

Tony smiled anyway, and nodded in response. His neck was already getting tired from all the nodding and shaking he was doing.

“I’m Loki,” the human said after a moment, and Tony’s lips quirked slightly. Someone who was named _Loki_ had no right to be judging his name.

“Well,” Loki continued, sounding distinctly put-out as his rose to his feet with an innate grace that Tony was suddenly extremely envious of. “I suppose you should return with me for now. You can’t just sit here all day.”

Tony struggled to his feet, pushing off from the sand with his hands and then flailing wildly until Loki grabbed hold of his arm with mild disbelief on his face. Tony grinned sheepishly, clinging on to the human’s coverings with both arms – it wasn’t his fault the sand was _unstable_.

Loki stared at him for a moment, gave another heavy sigh, and then muttered something that sounded a lot like, “ _Why me?_ ” Then he reached back to unclasp a large piece of cloth from the rest of his coverings while Tony wriggled his toes in the sand and tried to balance.

“Here.” Tony took the large piece of green cloth from the human and smiled uncertainly. Was this a gift? A sign of interest in a prospective mate? Loki’s expression wasn’t exactly congruous with his guesses, but perhaps he was just one of those types who didn’t really know how to smile.

“ _No_ , I mean –” With an impatient noise, Loki snatched the green cloth out of Tony’s hands, throwing him off balance. “Use the cloak to _cover_ yourself. Don’t tell me you don’t know what clothes are.” As he spoke, he shook the green cloth – the _cloak_ – out before draping it over Tony’s shoulders. Instinctively, Tony grabbed at the corners before it could slip right off again.

And then he shook his head truthfully, because he _didn’t_ know what clothes were.

He could make an educated guess though – he _was_ a genius after all. Humans always wore coverings over their bodies, and now _he_ was being made to cover his body as well – so clothes were coverings. Simple.

He pinched at the thick green covering across Loki’s chest, cocking his head and raising his brows as quizzically as possible.

Loki’s brows were furrowed more than he could have imagined possible. “Yes,” he said blankly. “Yes, these are clothes. Shirt, pants, top and bottom. Do you understand? Are you suffering from memory loss?”

Suddenly, the taller man bent and peered into Tony’s eyes, looking faintly worried. Surprised, Tony pulled back and promptly fell on his behind on the sand, his mouth rounding in an ‘o’ of surprise.

Loki sighed again. “Never mind. Come on.” He extended a helping hand and tugged Tony to his feet, and then kindly allowed Tony to cling on to his arm while he took step by careful step away from the only home he had ever known.

* * *

Apparently, Loki was a prince. Tony had fallen in with a human _prince_. Talk about luck.

It wasn’t something Loki had said outright, but it didn’t get much more obvious than entering a dwelling where everyone they passed bowed upon seeing them and said, “Prince Loki.”

Loki seemed oddly anxious, and he kept hissing to Tony, “Hurry _up_ ,” even though he wasn’t even being slow. It was much easier to walk when the ground was flat and hard, although his strides just weren’t as long as the human’s due to their height difference.

He had so much he wanted to say right now, not all of it complimentary; it was probably a blessing that he couldn’t say them.

Finally, they came to a halt in a massive, lushly furnished room filled with all sorts of unidentifiable knick-knacks.

“Now,” Loki said, his tone imperious in a way that Tony didn’t quite appreciate, “you will cleanse yourself, and then I shall figure out how to return you to wherever it is you come from.”

Tony raised his brows. He knew _exactly_ where he came from, thank you very much, and he certainly didn’t want to go back before his three days were up, and definitely not without a declaration of love. And he certainly didn’t like the implications of being told to clean himself – he was _perfectly_ presentable. What was wrong with a little sand and salt?

Like he had read Tony’s thoughts, the human fixed him with a glare. “The bath is non-negotiable,” he said coolly, and dragged Tony bodily into a smaller adjoining chamber.

Scandalised, he would have given Loki a smack with his tailfins for being so presumptuous, but all he could do was pull away with a soundless exclamation. Stumbling backwards from the force of his pull, the cloak slipped from around his shoulders and pooled at his feet, sending him slipping and sliding until his head met the wall with a hard _thud_.

Sliding to the ground, he tried to whimper at the sudden pain that flashed through his head. This human thing was kind of sucking so far – what was with all the walls everywhere? Did they _like_ to trap themselves in little rooms?

It hadn’t even been half a day and he already almost missed home.

And then he felt warm arms wrap around him, tugging him against a firm, clothing-covered chest as Loki prodded at the back of his head with gentle fingers. It was comforting, like drifting to sleep tucked against his mother’s side when he had been much smaller than he was now.

“You’ll be fine. It wasn’t a bad fall,” Loki said brusquely, breaking the spell. And then he was pulled upright and dumped into the large white basin set against the side of the room, which promptly began to fill with warm water.

He would have squeaked in surprise, but as it was, all he could do was draw his legs back from the flow and look up at Loki beseechingly. What was the human trying to do? _Cook him_?

“What?” Loki sounded annoyed, like it was _Tony’s_ fault he couldn’t speak. Well, it kind of was, but it was mostly Obadiah’s fault, that greedy squid.

It took a bit of gesturing and upset shaking of his head for Tony to finally convey the idea that the water was too warm, but then Loki taught him how to control the temperature of the flow with a special knob, which was all very exciting, and he finally managed to get the temperature of the water _just right_.

Loki didn’t seem particularly approving (“You bathe in _cold_ water?”) but Tony didn’t know what was up with him. He _lived_ in water this temperature and it was great. Humans were missing out.

Of course, the water was _freshwater_ , which was kind of gross, but he supposed it was just another human oddity he would have to live with for now.

Loki seemed determined to rub some strange white foam into his hair (all the while muttering “Must I do _everything_?” to himself in a disgruntled way), and after a few token protests, Tony bent his head and allowed the ministrations to continue. Only because Loki’s fingers felt _very_ nice pressing against his scalp, and the foam smelled quite wonderful, if almost cloyingly sweet.

Only after he was deemed ‘clean’ by the prince’s immaculate standards was Tony allowed out of the basin, regardless of the way he scrunched up his face in protest and how many times he splashed foamy water at Loki. He was then forced to cover himself in _clothing_ , before Loki forced him down onto a large, soft seat and told him firmly to _wait_.

Obviously, Tony didn’t. The moment the door to the adjoining room clicked shut, he was up on his feet and wandering about the room, trying and failing to resist the urge to touch everything.

There was a lot of paper everywhere, with human writing on them, and Tony flipped through a few stacks with interest. Paper never survived in the water, so he had never touched it properly before – it was stiffer than he had expected it to be.

There were pictures as well, of Loki and a large blonde man grinning arm-in-arm, and the two men with an older couple. Their parents, presumably, which meant the king and the queen. The king only had one eye, and Tony sobered as he stared at the old man’s stern face – if he didn’t get that declaration of love, he was going to be just like Loki’s father, except with two eyepatches instead of one.

“ _What_ are you doing?” came a very familiar demand from behind, and Tony whirled around, hands raised innocently.

Loki had changed his clothing as well, exchanging his wet coverings for dry ones. He stalked over to Tony’s side, gaze sweeping over his belongings, before letting out an angry huff and beginning to rearrange his papers.

“Don’t touch my things. It’s rude to touch other people’s belongings without permission,” he snapped, and Tony wrinkled his nose at the human behind his back. He sounded like Tony’s _dad_.

Then he tapped Loki on the shoulder and pointed at the pictures. Beneath his touch, he felt Loki still, before he reached out to pick up the photo of himself and the blonde man.

“My brother,” he said, turning to face Tony with an actual smile on his face. A small smile, but soft and genuine. “You are likely to see him soon; he is always about here somewhere, shirking his royal duties.”

Tony smiled back tentatively.

“Now,” Loki sighed after a moment, “what am I going to do with you?” He led Tony back to the large, soft seat from before and sat him down on the edge. Loki himself remained standing, looking liable to begin pacing back and forth at any moment.

 _How about you fall in love with me?_ Tony thought hopefully, although he was starting to realise that it was going to be easier said than done when he couldn’t get anyone to _understand_ him.

“Are you not from the village?” Loki asked, sounding almost as hopeful as Tony was in his head, but with the same undercurrent of despair that made Tony’s headshake not as much of a disappointment as it could have been.

“ _Are_ you suffering from memory loss?” the prince tried, and Tony shook his head again, feeling a grin forming. He had a feeling that this was going to be fun, if only to see Loki flounder.

Loki frowned. “But you didn’t know what clothes were,” he pointed out, looking confused. Tony only shrugged.

“Where do you come from then?” Loki sounded a tad exasperated.

Tony looked up at him and cocked his head, feeling almost sorry for the baffled human. Getting to his feet carefully, he took Loki’s hand and led him to one of the windows, from which the roiling sea could clearly be seen. He pointed out, beyond the shallows, to where he knew the land dipped down and the light still filtered through prettily, where the waters teemed with life right down to the seabed.

The home of the merfolk. At least, some of them.

“A shipwreck?” Loki guessed, as far off the mark as ever. “Did you wash up here?”

Tony turned to glare at him, squeezing the prince’s hand and jabbing his finger out at the water again. The light winking off the water made him suddenly homesick, reminding him of the way certain rays of light would shine right through to the sand, leaving a coin-sized glimmer of illumination that merchildren would use to reflect the light off their scales.

His hand dropped, the other slipping off Loki’s as he leaned further out of the open window, the sea breeze brushing past his nostrils and stinging his eyes.

He didn’t know how long he stood just staring out at the world he’d wanted so badly to leave behind, before Loki put a careful arm around his shoulders and steered him away.

“I’ll help you get home,” the human said quietly, firmly. “Don’t worry.”

Tony nodded, even though that wasn’t really the _point_ of him being on land. A tear dripped down his cheek, trickling over his lip, and he automatically darted his tongue out to lick it away, but the taste of salt only made him want to cry all over again.

Loki dabbed at his tears with a small, square piece of cloth that he had seemingly produced from nowhere, and gave him a startlingly kind smile. “I must leave you for a while – I have duties to attend to and a meeting with my father. If you are hungry, I can have food sent to my room.”

Tony sniffled and considered the question for a moment. But no, he wasn’t hungry just yet – so he shook his head.

Loki nodded. “Then just stay here for a while. I shall return as soon as I can, and we can go out and…see if anything jogs your memory.” He smiled a little sheepishly and handed Tony the small piece of cloth, before clapping him on the shoulder in a way that was probably meant to be supportive.

* * *

Tony waited precisely seven minutes after the door shut behind Loki before peeking out into the corridor. It seemed empty, and he let himself out slowly, shutting the ornate door behind him with a quiet click.

This was _awesome_.

Loki had said something about a village, which presumably meant more people, which meant more – more _something_. This was exactly why he was on land, to explore and experience and learn.

Picking a direction at random, he padded down the large hallways, somehow managing not to see a single soul until he found himself in a long stone corridor, the walls interspersed with large holes – he didn’t know if they could be called _windows_ if there wasn’t any glass – that allowed the fresh air to flow right through.

He paused to look out at the sea again, trying to stick his head out to see round the sides of the building, which was about when he heard a very angry yell.

“Stop right there!”

Tony jumped, whirling to see two angry-looking men – guards? – rushing towards him. _Oops_. Startled, he stumbled backwards, righted himself, then turned and ran.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t particularly great at running yet, and they caught up to him before he’d gotten more than five steps away. They pulled him to a stop, wrenching hard on an arm each, and he hunched in pain, craning his neck up at both of them in turn.

“Who are you? How did you get into the castle? Trying to steal something, _peasant_?” They sneered one question after another at him, one of them pressing his face close to Tony’s with a suspicious scowl.

He shook his head, trying to pull away. He wasn’t a _thief_!

“Look at what he’s wearing,” one of the men said suddenly, plucking at Tony’s shirt with a look of dawning realisation on his face. “He’s been in one of the royal chambers.”

Tony shrank away, baring his teeth, his weak kicks nothing compared to the strength he could have mustered with one smack of his muscular tail. He probably could’ve knocked their heads right off their necks.

The other guard glowered angrily. “A thief, then.”

“No, I mean –” The younger man seemed to hesitate, before he pulled Tony around to face him. “You can’t talk, can you?”

Slowly, Tony shook his head, wondering what exactly he had just gotten himself into.

“And you know Prince Loki?”

Eyes wide, Tony nodded.

The two guards exchanged a glance. “This is how he’s been keeping it a secret then? Using men who can’t talk?” one of them whispered, looking back at Tony with something close to disgust, and maybe pity. Tony wasn’t sure yet if he preferred it to the anger and suspicion from before.

“Well, those rumours can’t have come from _nowhere_ ,” the second guard said quietly. “Think about it, never a dalliance with a maid that we’ve heard of – and then remember how Prince Thor was back in the day.”

Tony shifted uncomfortably, the iron-hard grips on his shoulders beginning to hurt in earnest. What _were_ these two idiots talking about? Were they going to let him go or not?

“Say we just escort him back to Prince Loki’s chambers?” the younger guard suggested uncertainly.

“And admit that we _know_ everything? We might as well just accompany him to the dungeons then,” his companion exclaimed. “I say we throw him in a cell; if he’s really just the Prince’s plaything, the Prince will get him out.”

Which, in the end, was exactly what they decided to do.

It took Tony less than a minute to decide that he _definitely_ didn’t like dungeons. His cell was small, slightly damp in a bad way, and _stank_ , although he wasn’t sure of what. He clutched at the bars as he watched the guards walk away, already conversing with each other as if his existence had been forgotten.

Humans were _strange_. Why were there places where others were not allowed to go? Where was the sense in that? He hadn’t even been intruding on a mother and her brood, merely wandering the dwelling without bothering anyone else.

He spent a few minutes rattling at the bars miserably, then sat down on the chilly ground to wait for Loki to come and get him. The prince _would_ come and get him, surely? He wouldn’t just leave Tony to rot here for three days – would he?

The time passed painfully slowly, made worse by the fact that he had no way of measuring it.

Perhaps an hour had passed, perhaps two, when all of a sudden, a warm gush of liquid began to pool beneath him, trickling down his leg and wetting his soft white pants.

With a silent whimper of horror, Tony leapt to his feet, tugging at the wet material until he could step out of it. The strange appendage between his legs dripped another drop or two onto the floor, and then the flow ceased.

So it was an organ for expelling waste – not that Tony felt particularly appreciative of the new knowledge at the moment. Now the cell smelled even worse, and it didn’t seem like anyone was going to clear the stinking puddle sitting in the middle of the floor. Did humans not have creatures – not fish, he presumed – that consumed their waste after them?

With a defeated slump to his shoulders, he retreated to the corner of the cell, leaving his pants sitting in the middle of the ignominious puddle.

Humans were so _messy_.

He wanted Loki to come and get him out of here. But mostly he just wanted to go home, which was a stupid thought, because he’d been dreaming of this day his whole _life_. Things were supposed to be better with legs, when you weren’t stuck in the water swimming pointlessly to and fro all day, when you could run and jump and sit and do all the things you couldn’t do when you had a horrible big tail.

Which wasn’t to say that he hated his tail. He _loved_ his tail – it was big and red and shiny and he was actually looking forward to getting it back.

He’d just thought that having legs would be better. Better than _this_.

A guard – not one of the two who’d thrown him in here – passed by a while later, and paused to laugh at his mess before leaving again. Tony had been tempted to throw his soaking pants at the bastard, but the moment had passed, and he hadn’t really wanted to touch those pants again anyway.

And then finally, _finally_ , he heard the swift tread of boots on stone before Loki came into sight, cloak swirling about his ankles. Tony leaped to his feet, rushing forward, stepping right into the puddle in his excitement to reach the bars that separated him from the human prince.

Loki took a step back, eyes wide, and Tony slowed, his smile fading as he watched Loki look him up and down. If he could have, he would have begged, _please, please don’t leave me down here. I need to be in the water in three days. Please._

Then Loki stepped forward again with a reproving sigh of, “ _Tony_ ,” and bent slightly to unlock the cell door. Tony pushed his way out the moment he was able, bare feet slapping on stone, and threw himself into Loki’s arms, feeling himself quiver against the human’s comforting solidity. It took a moment, but Loki’s arms slowly tightened around him, one hand patting at Tony’s back.

Finally, Loki unclasped his cloak, wrapping it lengthwise about Tony’s waist this time. “I _told_ you to stay in the room,” he scolded, even as he led the way out of the dungeons, where there were, curiously, no guards in sight. “Are you alright? You are not hurt?”

Tony lowered his head in shame and shook his head.

Loki led them at a quick pace back to his chambers, and it was a struggle to keep up when he had to keep the cloak in place around his waist at the same time.

Once they were back, Loki forced Tony back into the adjoining chamber – the _bathroom_ , he learned – to rinse himself in the big white basin he had bathed in previously.

“I don’t suppose you know what a toilet is?” the prince asked, sounding torn between exasperation and amusement, and only shook his head slightly when Tony shrugged. “When you feel – well, you will have this full, pressing feeling that means you need to urinate, which is what you did back in – back there.”

Loki sounded almost uncomfortable, which only made Tony listen all the more attentively with a mischievous smirk on his face.

“When you get that feeling, just let it all out here –” Loki pointed to a large white bowl a short distance away. “Or if you need to, uh, defecate, you do it sitting down. You’ll get a similar feeling to when you need to urinate, but not…quite.”

Tony stared from the white bowl to Loki and back again. Hesitantly, he pointed at Loki, and then the bowl, nibbling on his bottom lip uncertainly.

Loki stared at him, looking appalled. “I’m not demonstrating how to use a _toilet_ ,” he said flatly.

Tony pouted as best he could, the famous Tony Stark pout that always meant that Steve would give the choicest portions of fish up just to stop him from pulling that face.

Loki wavered for a moment, and then pulled Tony over, looking annoyed, which almost seemed to be the default setting of his face.

“Look,” he said, positioning Tony in front of the toilet. “When you need to urinate, you stand like this, hold your – your privates and urinate into the bowl. Otherwise, you sit down and do it, get it?” And he turned Tony, forcing him down so he was sitting on the toilet.

Honestly, Tony _didn’t_ get it. He got the first part fine, but what was he supposed to do sitting down? How many places were waste supposed to come from – _oh_. He jerked when, reaching behind him, he felt the presence of a small hole, kind of like the one in the middle of his stomach.

Right, so more waste was supposed to come from _this_ hole, but the not-hole in his stomach did nothing.

Humans were _so_ weird.

“What are you –” Loki started to say, and then he stopped, looking more baffled than ever. “Did you not know that you have a…how can you not _know_?”

Tony beamed at him excitedly, standing and trying to turn so that he could show Loki this strange, additional waste-releasing hole that he had, except Loki seemed less than keen on seeing it.

Perhaps it was because he had his own.

“Just wash your hands, Tony. _Wash your hands_ ,” he kept repeating, until Tony finally did.

Loki forced him to wear clothes again, and then stuck his head out of the room and called for food, which Tony found exceedingly odd, because there hadn’t been anyone outside when he’d left.

When the food arrived, eating was in itself another trial. “You hold a fork like _this_ ,” Loki said patiently, and Tony’s mind boggled with all the different ways humans had for eating. Forks for one thing but not for another, spoons for soup but not for meat. It didn’t make any sense. They had hands – why not just _use_ them?

But he managed, after a fashion. He was a fast learner after all.

Eventually, Tony discovered the delight of dipping his fork into his sauce and licking it, before repeating the cycle, and was only convinced to stop by Loki suddenly saying out of nowhere, “I was thinking, perhaps we might make a trip down to the village after you are done with your meal.”

Immediately, he snapped his eyes up to Loki’s. The prince gave him a small smile, which he returned, along with an excited nod.

* * *

The village was _amazing_. There were humans _everywhere_.

Tony was practically bouncing with every step, another of Loki’s cloaks draped snugly about him, in addition to the clothes the human had forced him into. He was beginning to discover that humans were rather obsessive about their coverings.

They even covered their feet with leather – in order to protect their feet from the road, Loki explained. Tony didn’t really like shoes; they made his feet feel heavy and strange – stranger than usual, anyway.

All the same, just entering the village was enough for him to forget any of his discomfort. People walked all about them, some carrying buckets, others pushing chariot-like vehicles, a few riding beasts of burden called horses. (Loki had offered that they ride to the village, but Tony had chosen to walk instead.)

Some of the people seemed to recognise Loki, and many of them called greetings while a few bowed shyly or avoided stepping in his path. Tony looked back at Loki admiringly, who responded to each person with a polite inclination of his head. He supposed he really was lucky to have been found by such a kind human, even if he hadn’t appeared particularly kind upon first meeting.

“Do you recognise anyone here?” Loki asked quietly, quickening his pace to catch up with Tony, who looked up at him quizzically. How was he supposed to recognise anyone here when he hadn’t been here before? Really, being a prince didn’t spare Loki from the general strangeness that seemed to plague the human race.

Loki sighed at Tony’s expression and shook his head. “Never mind. Just look around, but stay close to me.”

Tony smiled, taking that as his cue to wander over to a row of stalls selling various items. He picked up a reddish sphere with a short brown stick sticking out of it, flipping it in his hands curiously while the stall keeper eyed him carefully.

After a moment, he felt Loki come up behind him, and twisted slightly to show the prince his new discovery. Loki looked slightly amused, one of his hands coming to rest lightly between Tony’s shoulder blades.

“That’s an apple, Tony – a fruit. It’s edible.”

Tony twisted around to face the prince fully, his face clearly showing his disbelief. This fruit was so _hard_ – how was anyone supposed to eat it?

“Here.” Taking the apple from Tony at the same time he handed something to the stall keeper – paying for the fruit, Tony realised – Loki took a bite of the apple, producing a loud crunching sound at the same time he did. It was hard not to wince, but Loki only stood there chewing without a sign of pain.

Taking the fruit from Loki, Tony turned it over, poking at the pale flesh curiously. Also hard. Cautiously, he raised it to his mouth and took a nibble where Loki’s mouth had been – immediately, a spectacular sweetness burst into being on his tongue and his eyes widened, throat moving convulsively.

Fruit that was solid but edible _and_ sweet. He was sold.

He heard a soft chuckle off to his right, and looked over to find Loki watching him with bemusement in his gaze. “How strange you are, Tony,” the prince said, and Tony rolled his eyes pointedly. _He_ wasn’t the strange one here.

They went up and down the main street twice, in which time Tony finished not only his apple but two sticks of succulent rabbit meat as well. On their way out of the village and back to the castle, the sudden sound of pounding hooves sounded behind them.

“Brother!” an unfamiliar voice boomed, making Loki pause in the middle of explaining how apple seeds worked.

Tony turned, immediately recognising the large blonde man bearing down on them on a large grey horse.

“Thor,” Loki said as the horse pulled up beside them, and there was a lightness to his voice that Tony hadn’t heard before. “Back so soon? I must warn you that Sif is out for blood; Father delegated your duties to her when he heard that you were away traveling again. He knows exactly how well Sif holds grudges, even against _you_.”

The tall man dismounted, and up close, his face was open and friendly in a way that very few were. “I will handle Sif, Loki, never you fear,” he said with a chuckle, before his gaze switched to Tony curiously. “And who is this? A new friend?”

Loki looked over at Tony as if only just remembering him. “I found him washed up on the beach this morning. He is a little strange –” He broke off here, smiling as Tony made as if to hit him. “– but a good companion. His name is Tony – like, uh, the body parts.”

One of Thor’s thick brows rose. “Toe…knee?” he repeated, to which Tony nodded enthusiastically.

“He can’t speak,” Loki added, “or read or write. He doesn’t really know much about our land.”

Thor shrugged. “I am sure you will return him to his rightful home, Brother. But now I must be off, before Sif decides to rip my beard from my chin if I am any later.” So saying, he mounted his horse again, waved, and galloped off in a cloud of dust, leaving Tony and Loki staring after him.

“Well,” Loki said after a moment, sounding amused. “That was my brother, Thor, our future king. He’s brighter than he looks, really.”

Tony grinned and nodded – that phrase could probably be applied to many of his friends, except Natasha, who was just as bright as she looked, and possibly even more dangerous.

“I shall have to take dinner with my family in a short while,” Loki said, as they entered the castle grounds by a side gate. “You absolutely _must_ stay in my room – I will be gone an hour at most. If you are still hungry, I will send for food when I return.”

Back in Loki’s rooms, the prince rummaged around in a drawer for a minute before producing a sheaf of paper and a number of coloured writing implements. He set these down on his desk and beckoned Tony over, seating him in the comfortable chair.

“You can draw or write whatever you want here. Maybe we can figure out a better way to communicate when I get back,” he said, squeezing Tony’s shoulder lightly. Tony looked back at the prince gratefully and nodded – he certainly had no intentions of getting thrown in the dungeon a second time, but at least he’d have something to occupy his time with now.

With Loki gone, Tony tested out the writing implements with some amazement. No wonder writing was so rampant on land, if it was so easy to leave a mark on paper. He wondered if he would be able to convey the necessity of Loki saying ‘I love you’ to him before the three days were up just by drawing.

But Loki returned before he was much more than half done with his second drawing. He was so engrossed that he didn’t even notice when the prince came up behind him, and ended up jerking so hard he scrawled a hard, jagged line of black across the paper when Loki laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Loki looked just as startled as Tony felt, and he quickly shook his head, patting at the hand on his shoulder reassuringly. With a rather mournful look at the messy scribble across the page, he set the crayon down and turned slightly to look at Loki.

The prince was focused on the first drawing he had finished, taking hold of the paper with careful fingers. “This is…beautiful, Tony,” he murmured, and Tony managed a modest half-smile in response. He _had_ always been good with his hands.

Loki lowered the sheet of paper, enough that Tony could see it as well, although of course he already knew exactly what was on it. A mermaid, elegant despite her youth, her tail thick and fins lush, her face full of excitement and love, arms outstretched as if she would swim right out of the page.

His mother, exquisitely vibrant, just the way he remembered her.

Loki sighed, and Tony flicked his gaze up to the human. “Why did you draw this?” The prince sounded almost like he was talking to himself, puzzling the drawing out even thought there was no riddle to it. “Another reference to the sea. But why?”

Tony gave a louder sigh than Loki’s, this one mildly annoyed. Again, he pulled the prince over to the window, pointing out to the ocean again, before nodding pointedly at the drawing.

“I _know_ what a mermaid is, Tony.” Loki sounded amused now. “Those legends don’t only belong to your people.”

 _Seriously?_ If Tony could have spoken, he would have groaned, _Why are you so_ dim _?_

He shook his head hard, tugging insistently on Loki’s arm. He pointed first at himself, then at the drawing, and finally out of the window again.

Loki stared at him, still looking puzzled, then down at the drawing, and back at Tony, but it no longer looked like his attention was on the shorter man standing before him. Perhaps he was thinking back to the way he had found Tony that morning, and all the shenanigans that had ensued.

An expression of mingled realisation and disbelief began to dawn on his face as he looked down at the drawing once more. “No,” he said firmly after a moment, without any context at all. “Absolutely not. You must be mad.”

Tony only stared at him beseechingly. How hard could it be to believe that the merfolk existed? It wasn’t their fault humans were so unaware of what lived in their oceans.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tony.” Loki let out a slightly strangled-sounding laugh, and then he stopped. “You’re a mermaid?”

Tony glared at him.

Loki hesitated. “Mer…man?” he tried, and Tony smiled widely with delight and approval.

The prince shook his head again. “This is ridiculous.” He walked back over to the desk and picked up Tony’s half-finished second drawing. “Then what’s this? A half human, half octopus?”

Tony raised his brows. Technically, Obadiah was half _merman_ , half octopus, but he supposed a human couldn’t be expected to tell the difference. So all he did was shrug and point at the picture of the old sea wizard, before pointing at his own legs, still encased in pants.

“This…thing, man – he gave you legs?” Loki guessed. “Why? Did you ask for them?”

Tony nodded sheepishly. He touched his throat, pointed at Obadiah, then pointed at his legs.

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t talk because you have legs,” he said.

Well, that was sort of true, but not in the way he’d meant. He touched his throat, mimed pulling his voice out, and pointed at Obadiah, then his legs again.

“He took your voice and gave you legs in return,” Loki said in realisation, and Tony smiled, both in relief and acknowledgement. _Finally_ they were getting somewhere.

Grabbing another crayon, he plucked the paper out of Loki’s hand and scribbled a few lines to represent the ocean, then a semi-circle over it that was the sun. From the sun, he drew an arching line from left to right – rising and setting, a full day. Loki seemed to get it, because he said as much, and Tony nodded.

Setting down the crayon, he pointed to the sun, then held up three fingers, and pointed to the first drawing of the mermaid that Loki still held.

That, too, was easy enough for Loki to understand. “You’ll get your tail back after three days?” he guessed, and promptly sat down in his chair, his expression slack with shock. “Well.”

Tony patted his shoulder soothingly, almost amused.

“So you just need me to play host for another two days?” Loki said after a few minutes, and Tony nodded slowly. He wasn’t quite sure how to tell the prince about the wager, even by drawing, but he figured there was still time. It would be easy enough to wait until Loki talked about loving something, before pointing to himself.

Or something. It would work.

Loki spent the rest of the time leading Tony around the room, teaching him the names of everything, like the big, soft seat that was actually a ‘bed,’ which was for sleeping. The concept of having one specific place to sleep in every night was novel to Tony, but he supposed it was easier for humans, who didn’t have currents pushing and tugging on them all night.

“Have you never slept on a bed before?” Loki asked, sounding surprised when Tony expressed his amazement at its structure. “It is quite big enough for both of us, so if you don’t mind sharing – it’s only for two nights, after all.” Loki sounded slightly hesitant, but even that soon dissipated in the face of Tony’s obvious enthusiasm for the proposal.

The excitement of the day’s events began to catch up to Tony not long after that, but Loki chased him into the bathroom before he could dive right into bed. Dutifully, he brushed his teeth with foam he wasn’t allowed to swallow, and then rid his body of waste so he wouldn’t soil the bed in his sleep. It was a very odd experience, if somewhat tedious, and not for the first time he thought of his ocean home with wistfulness.

“ _Now_ you can sleep,” Loki said, sounding amused as he led Tony over to the bed. The prince had changed out of his heavy day coverings into something lighter and, Tony presumed, more suitable for sleep. He spent a few moments tucking Tony under the blankets, then moved to switch the lights off before occupying the other half of the bed.

“Goodnight, Tony.” Loki’s voice sounded in the near-dark, and Tony realised distantly that there was something different about the human’s tone now.

A bit more wonder, bordering on awe; a bit less ease than before.

It made him a little sad to realise that, and he reached out for Loki’s hand, feeling blindly across the thick blankets until their fingers bumped lightly. He grasped Loki’s hand with his own and squeezed, not quite sure himself what he meant to convey.

Perhaps a _thank you for being my friend_ , or maybe just a simple _goodnight_. Whatever the case, Loki turned his hand palm-up and squeezed back, and Tony felt like everything was going to be just fine.


	2. Seabound

Tony blinked awake the moment Loki got out of bed, eyes flashing open and darting all around for the source of the disturbance ( _shark?_ ). Then he moved to sit up, felt his legs, and had to pat around excitedly under the blanket to make sure they were real.

Unfortunately, his exclamation of wonder was silent, which reminded him of the whole ‘no voice’ issue as well.

Nevertheless, he trailed his fingers up his thighs with dreamy glee on his face – at least, until he encountered something very, _very_ wrong with his waste-releasing organ. It was sticking straight up stiffly, slightly curved where it met the fabric of his pants, and it felt overly-sensitive in a way that had him twitching with unease.

Suddenly terrified, Tony flung the blankets back and wriggled out of his pants, staring in goggle-eyed horror at his engorged organ. Even its _colour_ was all wrong. What was he going to _do_?

He prodded at it, and if it hadn’t been attached to him, he probably would have been fascinated by the way it bobbed back into position. But it _was_ attached to him, and he had to hold back tears of terror when the appendage refused to lay back down properly against his thigh.

Just then, Loki emerged from the bathroom, already dressed for the day, and in what was coming to be a common greeting for the both of them, said in abject horror, “ _What_ are you doing?”

Tony looked up at the human, down to his _problem_ , and back up at Loki, feeling his bottom lip begin to tremble.

“Tony…” Loki said slowly, seeming to catch sight of his expression. “Are you – this is normal. You do realise that? It is just something that happens some mornings. It is not…anything to worry about.”

_So what do I do? Does it stay like this all day? Why does it happen? Is it a disease?_ For the first time, Tony felt the full force of his voicelessness. All he could do was wring his hands in a general panicked manner, with only Loki’s bewildered expression keeping him from sinking into complete terror.

Loki looked like he wanted to die right on the spot, but he walked over to the bed anyway, seeming to be avoiding looking at Tony’s _problem_ as much as possible. It wasn’t making Tony feel very much better about it.

“It’s a –” Loki started, and then broke off, rubbing at his forehead with a sigh. “It is a breeding matter, Tony. You can urinate from it, but it’s also used for breeding. You just have to, uh – just rub it and you’ll feel better.”

Tony hesitated. Honestly, he didn’t want to touch it at all, part of his body or no. It just looked so _unnatural_. And besides, breeding and releasing waste from the same organ made _no_ sense at all. What if Loki was mistaken?

“Tony.” The human’s voice was suddenly sharp. “This is usually a private matter. Why don’t you go to the bathroom and take care of it?” He reached a hand out to Tony, but Tony set his hands firmly down on the bed and shook his head, eyes wide.

Why was Loki doing this? Maybe it was actually contagious and the prince wanted to lock him in the bathroom without alarming him. If so, he wasn’t doing a very good job of it, because Tony was already plenty alarmed.

He really _was_ starting to feel quite uncomfortable though, and he set a tentative hand on it, tugging lightly in an effort to relieve the discomfort. A little huff escaped him, and he gave another experimental tug.

_Oooh._ He did feel better – quite a lot better, in fact. So Loki wasn’t lying after all.

“ _Tony_ …” Loki sounded vaguely pained, and Tony looked up, still sliding his fist up and down the stiff appendage. A few droplets of liquid were seeping out from the top, making the grip much smoother, and it was – honestly – starting to feel – _quite good_.

Loki was staring at him in dismay, looking lost for words, and Tony’s attention soon slid back to the tightening feeling between his legs. He gave another hard stroke, the motion almost violent, and a soundless whimper escaped from his lips even as a sudden splatter of warm liquid hit his hand.

He slowed, panting, his organ still pulsing with waves of satisfaction, and stared at the mess on the bed and on him with dawning embarrassment. _Oh dear_.

Slowly, he looked back up at Loki, whose expression was positively _furious_. “Just – go to the bathroom and clean yourself up,” the prince gritted out, his face practically crimson. “And _don’t_ come out until I tell you that you can.”

Ducking his head, he scrambled off the bed and all but ran past Loki into the bathroom, shutting the door carefully behind him. Loki had left him a new set of clothes on one of the shelves, and he quickly stripped before stepping into the tub for a quick rinse.

No wonder he had been supposed to do this in the bathroom. He stared down at his waste-releasing (breeding?) organ with consternation – it was all floppy again, not at all like the trouble-making, upright thing it had been just a few minutes ago.

Complicated. Humans were _ever_ so complicated, whether it was in waste disposal or breeding.

Changing into a fresh set of clothes, he cautiously knocked on the door of the bathroom before setting his ear to the door, wondering if it was safe to exit.

“One – _moment_ ,” Loki snarled from somewhere, still sounding oddly pained.

Deflating, Tony took a seat on the closed lid of the toilet, hoping that Loki wasn’t so furious he was going to throw him back into the dungeon again.

Finally, just a few minutes later, Loki said quietly from the other side, sounding much more normal than before, “You can come out now, Tony.”

He hurried to open the door, finding himself face to face with the human. Loki had changed his clothes again for some reason, but perhaps he had soiled himself cleaning up Tony’s mess. Still, the prince didn’t look particularly angry at the moment, not with the familiar quiet smile that he offered, and which Tony returned a tad more cautiously.

“Are you alright?” Loki hesitated for a moment. “I know it must have been frightening for you, but it is a normal occurrence, truly. If it happens again, you can just handle it in the bathroom on your own.”

Tony nodded sheepishly, and Loki seemed to relax slightly.

“I took the liberty of having breakfast served here,” the prince said, leading the way out of the bedroom via a side door Tony hadn’t noticed before. It led into another large room with an equally large table set in it, and upon the table were so many different types of food Tony could hardly blink for fear he would miss something.

Noticing Tony’s flabbergasted expression, Loki chuckled. “Eat whatever you like, and as much or as little as you like. The servants will finish the rest.” His hand came to rest on the small of Tony’s back, guiding him into the room and over to a chair.

Tony simply couldn’t _fathom_ how such a wide variety of food could even exist in one place. Certainly, there were many kinds of fish in the ocean, but not all were edible, and some were seasonal. Beyond that, there was always seaweed and shellfish, but the spread could hardly be counted as sumptuous, not when compared to a single royal breakfast on land.

As they ate, and after another impromptu class in dining etiquette for Tony, Loki said, “I have some matters to attend to this morning, but perhaps you would like to go the beach when I return? After we have lunch?”

Tony brightened visibly, anticipation lighting his features. It seemed stupid to visit the beach when he could see it anytime from home, but it was different now. He would be seeing the beach and the ocean from a _human_ point of view.

And truthfully, he missed it anyway. It would be nice to know that Dad and home weren’t really all that far away at all.

Before he left, Loki left Tony with yet more paper to draw on, as well as the request, “Perhaps you would not mind drawing a picture of yourself, as a merman? With your tail?” The prince had shifted awkwardly from foot to foot then. “It would be nice to have a keepsake after…after tomorrow.”

Tony had beamed and nodded, a warm feeling curling somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach. He had a human friend, and it was _awesome_. So much for the two-legged danger Dad kept going on and on about.

The sketch he did of himself turned out pretty damn well, if he did say so himself. His tail looked magnificent, his fins soft and almost glittering. Loki would like it – although he couldn’t help but feel that it would be even better if Loki got to see the real thing for himself.

Around mid-morning, there was a sharp rap on the bedroom door, and Tony looked up in alarm, but before he could even think of hiding, the doors burst open. A dark-haired woman stalked into the room with Loki’s name on her lips, only to falter when she caught sight of Tony sitting at the prince’s desk.

“Who – are you _supposed_ to be here?” the woman demanded, fiery-eyed and striking in a way that reminded Tony very much of Natasha – which was why a very sensible pang of fear ran through him when she turned her dark gaze upon him.

He nodded, trying his very best to look earnest, and not ‘like an annoying ass’ in the way Clint sometimes described him as being.

The woman’s brows raised, and she looked around the room, her focus landing on the bed. Tony was suddenly _very_ glad that someone had been in to tidy the bed while he had been having breakfast with Loki.

“Hm,” the woman said, looking annoyed, although not at Tony in particular, for which he was grateful. “Loki – I mean, _Prince_ Loki isn’t here then?”

Tony shook his head, and she turned on her heel with a frown, leaving the same way she had arrived. He distinctly heard her muttering something about _damn Thor_ on the way out, right before the door slammed shut behind her.

Slowly, with almost deliberate caution, Tony returned to his drawings, dragging his feet back and forth along the rough fibres of the carpet with cheerful enjoyment.

* * *

Flipping his shoes off, Tony buried his toes in the sand with every large, tromping step he took, making Loki chuckle at the sight he made. He’d never realised how _warm_ sand could get after baking under the sun. The heat was really quite delightful.

As the ocean came into view, the familiar crash of waves on sand akin to music to his ears, he turned to Loki with a delighted grin, gesturing wildly towards the water.

The prince raised a rather sardonic brow. “Don’t swim in your clothes,” was all he said, and Tony nodded. Immediately, he set off at an awkward lope, still trying to find his footing in the sand. He shed his clothes as he went, and was blissfully uncovered by the time the ocean began to lap at his feet in its usual friendly manner.

With a graceful arc, he dived, and it was just like going home.

Except for the fact that he could no longer breathe underwater, and he came up spluttering half a second later after having taken a huge gulp of seawater. Coughing, he waved to Loki, who looked slightly alarmed at the sight, then took a huge breath and submerged himself again.

It was _hard_ to swim without a tail. He felt like he was barely moving at all no matter how hard he kicked with his flimsy excuse for legs, and for the first time, he felt _vulnerable_ in his own home. Without a tail, he could neither swim with speed to safety nor defend himself, and he found himself staying closer to shore than he would have preferred.

He was a little disappointed that Loki seemed to express no interest in wading in, but the prince merely set out a large blanket before proceeding to sit down on it, content with just watching Tony frolic about in the shallows.

He dipped his head underwater often, hoping to catch even a single glimpse of a flashing scale, but he knew he was too far inland to see any of his friends. It was dangerous for merfolk to stray so close to shore, where they might be swept onto the beach and be unable to return to the sea before they suffocated.

Finally, he began to tire – in the _water_ , what an idea! – and returned to shore, dripping steadily as he padded over to where Loki appeared to have dozed off with a towel set over his face. Tony grinned at the sight, flopping down beside the human and squinting up against the sunlight beating down on them both.

Loki shifted at the motion, lifting the towel slightly to peek at Tony. “Oh, you’re out,” he said, his voice sounding blurry with sleep. “Did you dry yourself?”

Tony sat up and shrugged. He didn’t really _want_ to dry himself yet; it wasn’t like they were going back anytime soon. Idly, he began to flick minute droplets of seawater onto Loki’s bare wrists, making the human hiss and sit up as well.

“ _Tony_ ,” Loki grumbled, smacking Tony’s hand away. He snickered silently at the man’s scowl, pulling the towel right out of his grasp in one quick movement. Loki stilled, watching him with a narrow-eyed gaze, and Tony hesitated – right at the moment Loki took the opportunity to lunge forward, pinning Tony down and reclaiming his towel with a soft snort of triumph.

Tony scrunched his nose up at Loki to express his displeasure, but the human only quirked a relaxed grin at him and slowly backed away, towel flung casually over his shoulder.

At that moment, he really wouldn’t have minded kissing Loki, except he was in no position to pursue the prince. He couldn’t make any coy remarks, nor could he send a potentially interested party a come-hither flick of his fins. All he could do was wave his hands about like an idiot, which he would be doing for the rest of his life, _blind_ , if he couldn’t get Loki to say the three magic words to him before the sun set the next day.

Loki tilted his chin down slightly, watching as a myriad of emotions suddenly flashed across Tony’s face, and his voice was careful when he spoke. “Tony, is something wrong?” He shifted closer, suddenly uncertain.

Tony shrugged, suddenly despondent at the thought of his fast-approaching deadline. What _wasn’t_ wrong? Three days had seemed a lot longer just yesterday, but already his second day was half over, and he was no closer to either getting Loki to genuinely fall for him, or finding a way to explain the stupid bet he had taken with stupid Obadiah.

If he had gotten Loki to teach him how to write, perhaps he could have made an effort at explaining, but he had a feeling it was a little late to be learning a whole new language right now.

He felt Loki’s palm brush his back again, a gentle gesture of support, and all of a sudden he twisted around to lay his head against Loki’s chest, the human’s shoulder supporting his body. Just as before, Loki seemed to take a moment to respond, but once he did, he shifted into a more comfortable position, pulling Tony more snugly against him, damp bare skin and all.

Tony let out a shuddering breath, knowing that no one would hear him, and tried not to cry. It wasn’t like him to be so pathetic – he was always the one leading everyone into trouble, and then getting into _more_ trouble with his dad for just that – but he’d never been faced with such high stakes in his life. He could live without his voice, sure, but his _eyes_? He might as well offer himself to the sharks right now.

Either he wouldn’t last a day out in the ocean, or he could never be alone again for the rest of his life, which was an even less attractive prospect.

He was barely aware of Loki’s hand gently cupping the back of his neck, stroking softly under his ear – only that it felt good and was mildly comforting. He closed his eyes, focusing on the soothing sensation, every brush of Loki’s thumb making him shiver slightly with distant pleasure.

This wasn’t hopeless. Tony Stark _never_ gave up, especially not when it came to a stupid slug like Obadiah. He was going to get his voice back, and Obadiah would get _nothing_.

Slowly, his breathing calmed, every motion of Loki’s fingers sending a delightful jolt down his spine.

Suddenly, the prince froze, going all stiff against him, and Tony opened his eyes, confused. He shifted to crane his neck up at Loki, and felt the tell-tale brush of – of _something_ against his thigh. Something hard, hot and completely unwelcome.

He scrabbled upright and out of Loki’s grasp, staring wide-eyed down at his swollen organ and then back at Loki, who looked just as thunderstruck as he felt. Seriously? _Again_? How could this have anything to do with _breeding_? It was idiotic. Everything was idiotic.

“Tony, it’s alright,” Loki said quietly, his expression suddenly shifting forcibly into his usual calm at the sight of Tony’s panic. “This is normal. Sometimes, touch can…can trigger this reaction. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Tony gave him a very exasperated glare. There were _many_ things to worry about. He didn’t see _Loki_ having this problem all day, did he? Of course, Loki was always fully-clothed, but he seemed to be able to function normally at any time of the day – unlike _Tony_ , who seemed to be prone to being handicapped by this terrible inconvenience.

He was suddenly very tired of having legs.

“Tony,” Loki repeated, setting a hand lightly on Tony’s shoulder. He was reluctant to face Loki, knowing that his frustration would be written all over his face, and he didn’t want the prince to think that he was the cause.

Loki paused, then tried again, “Do you – are you going to take care of it?”

He felt the human rubbing at his knuckles and realised that his hands were balled into fists, veins pulsing in his forearms. Slowly, he made a conscious effort to relax, palms opening to Loki’s touch.

“It’s alright. I can help you.” There was something almost hypnotising about Loki’s voice, his words suddenly thick with meaning, and Tony’s eyes flashed to the side, very much familiar with the sudden change in tone – he’d used it before countless times himself.

Despite his words, Loki looked almost afraid, his eyes wide and lips slightly parted, expression frozen like that of a startled fish. Tony’s gaze darted from Loki’s eyes to his lips, and back again, and slowly, he nodded, curling back against the prince’s chest.

Loki’s touch was like an electric current; Tony’s hips jerked up the moment the prince wrapped his fingers delicately around him. It felt like – truthfully, it felt like nothing he had ever felt before.

If this was what human reproduction involved, it was certainly much more exciting than anything that happened underwater.

“When it gets hard like this, we call it an erection,” Loki whispered, his voice low and sinful, and Tony trembled beneath his touch, suddenly grateful for his forced silence. Already his chest was heaving as Loki stroked him languidly, his hand sure and experienced, and so much _more_ than Tony’s own clumsy attention.

He could feel with exquisite sensitivity the different ways in which Loki touched him, a stroke here and a twist there, just a soft brush of his thumb across the tip. His back arched as the overwhelming wave of pleasure returned, mouth wide in a soundless howl, and Loki’s arm tightened around his shoulders, holding him in place as he came undone.

“You’re alright,” Loki sighed against his hair. “You’re safe, Tony.”

He wasn’t, not really, but he _felt_ safe anyway, safe enough to lay still, dazed and dreamy, as Loki cleaned his own ejaculate from his skin.

It was only after he had thrown on his sandy clothes and Loki had packed the towels that Tony finally saw the tell-tale bulge straining against the front of Loki’s pants, and he grabbed at the prince’s hand, eyes wide. Loki turned to him, a quizzical smile on his face.

Somewhat abashed, Tony gestured to the proof of Loki’s own erection, but he received only a faint smirk in return, both self-deprecating and terribly kind.

“It’s fine, Tony. Come on.” Loki shook his head and pulled Tony to his side, sliding his arm around the shorter man’s shoulders as they trudged up the beach together.

* * *

Loki claimed the bathroom the moment they returned to his rooms, leaving Tony to sit on the carpet, getting sand everywhere as he tried to fold the towels into various shapes. He ended up with a few sadly amorphous lumps instead.

Barely ten minutes had passed before the doors suddenly burst open, making Tony jump and kick out instinctively as if he was still in possession of a tail. Thor strode into the room calling Loki’s name, and just like the woman before him, he seemed somewhat startled to see Tony instead of his brother.

“Ah, it’s you! Well-met, friend,” Thor said cheerfully, and Tony had a fleeting suspicion that the blonde prince had forgotten his name. “Where is my brother?”

Tony pointed towards the bathroom, and Thor immediately walked over to rap loudly on the door. “Father called a meeting of his council earlier this afternoon, but they couldn’t find you in order to inform you. You’re _late_ , Loki.” It seemed to Tony that Thor sounded almost gleeful to be making that announcement, albeit not in any particularly malicious way.

Half a minute later, the bathroom door slammed open, revealing a rather wild-eyed Loki. “Let’s go, Thor,” he said, stepping around a still-seated Tony to grab his cloak. Thor grinned, but he took the cloak from Loki to help him with it anyway.

Loki’s gaze darted down to Tony. “Go and bathe, Tony. I won’t be long.” He paused, seeming to realise something. “Clothes are in the wardrobe, just wear anything. _Please_ be sure to wear clothes.”

Thor looked between them, brows furrowing in confusion at the strange, one-sided exchange.

Tony gave Loki a disgruntled pout, but the prince only quirked a small smile in return and swept out of the room with Thor hot on his heels.

Left to his own devices, Tony finally got moving in order to fill the bath with cool water. It seemed to take a long time, but finally he was able to slip in with a comfortable sigh. Carefully, he foamed his hair and his body just as Loki had shown him how to the day before, before laying back and allowing himself to doze.

He only jerked awake to the sound of a startled gasp and a hasty exclamation of, “I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t realise anyone was in here,” and he looked up just in time to see a terrified maid beating a hasty retreat. She had left the bathroom door half open, but he returned to his nap without a care anyway.

The next time he awoke was to a very familiar, very dry voice saying, “Really, Tony. What do you have against clothes?” He cracked an eye open, a grin forming at the sight of Loki standing before him with a neat stack of clothes beside him. The prince leaned down to pluck out the stopper preventing the water from draining, then extended a hand to Tony to help him carefully out of the bath.

Tony spent a few moments inspecting the deep puckers that had formed on the tips of his fingers – “It happens when you spend too long in the water, Tony,” Loki had said, and Tony had shot him a supremely disdainful look at that – before finally getting dressed under Loki’s watchful eye.

They had only a short time before Loki had to depart for dinner, and they spent it looking through the drawings Tony had done earlier in the day. The human seemed appropriately awed at Tony’s self-portrait, and it was a challenge not to begin preening right there and then.

“You look magnificent,” Loki said quietly, sounding oddly stunned, although Tony didn’t quite understand why. It wasn’t like Loki hadn’t known what he was, although he supposed this _was_ the first time he was seeing even a poor caricature of Tony’s true form.

“How can you not miss it?” One of Loki’s hands ran down Tony’s calf lightly, almost in wonder. “You do, don’t you?”

Tony shrugged – he did, of course, but having legs wasn’t all that bad, even if there _were_ definite downsides to them.

Again, Loki hesitated, then rummaged through the stack of drawings for the first one Tony had shown him. “She…is she your –” He broke off, seeming uncertain as to the correct terminology. “Lover? Your wife? Oh, your, uh, mate?”

Tony stared at him, appalled, and shook his head hard. Padding over to the desk, he brought Loki’s family photo back to the bed with him and pointed at the middle-aged, gently smiling lady with her hand on Loki’s shoulder.

Loki sucked in a sharp breath the moment he understood. “Your _mother_ ,” he said, voice lowering respectfully. “She looks…very young.”

The corner of Tony’s lips drooped at that, and he moved his hands in a vague gesture. _It was a long time ago._

Loki didn’t seem to understand the hand movement, but he read Tony’s expression well enough. Taking hold of Tony’s hand, he squeezed twice and offered a tentative smile, which Tony acknowledged with a slight tilt of his head.

His mood remained pensive even after Loki’s departure, as he flipped from picture to picture, his mind racing even as his time ticked towards its inevitable end. It had to be tonight – if he didn’t manage to make Loki understand what was at stake when he returned, and the prince continued to have a multitude of royal duties to complete in the day, sunset tomorrow was probably going to go _very_ badly for him.

Face setting in an expression of stubborn determination that all his friends would have recognised and were quite right to be wary of, he laid his crayons out and began to draw.

* * *

Things were _not_ going the way he had envisioned, which was to say – not well at all.

Tony had laid his new set of drawings out on the carpet for easy viewing and pointing – himself as a merman, dark hollows where his eyes should have been; the half-completed drawing of Obadiah; him and Loki, sitting side by side as Loki spoke to him.

“So when you get your tail back, this _thing_ wants your eyes as well? And there’s a way to stop it?”

Loki had managed to understand that after a few faulty guesses, but that was the point where they had gotten stuck. He didn’t seem to understand what the third picture had to do with anything, and the fact that Tony was getting increasingly frustrated wasn’t helping.

He pointed at Loki’s mouth and tried to mime the words, but the prince only shook his head, looking lost. With a frustrated, noiseless huff, Tony jabbed at the Loki in his drawing, then pointed at his own eyes.

Loki’s lips pressed together, his face a mask of concentration. “I…have to give you my eyes?” he tried, looking apprehensive.

Tony gave him a withering glare, and Loki frowned back at him, looking miffed. Taking a moment to close his eyes and pray for patience, Tony tried again, pointing first at Loki, then miming speaking, before pointing to himself.

Loki’s mouth half-opened as if to say something, then closed as Tony repeated the pattern twice more, and finally he said, “I have to speak – to you?”

_Finally!_

Tony nodded, breaking into a relieved smile, and Loki heaved a sigh that was loud enough for both of them.

“So I have to say something that will let you keep your eyes,” Loki said, and Tony nodded, his movements jerky with anxiety. How was he supposed to convey the _idea_ of love with neither language nor voice?

He carefully laid Loki’s pictures out beside the drawings as well, pointing to the king and queen before looking expectantly at the prince.

“My parents,” Loki said promptly, and Tony shook his head, moving his finger from one little figure to another. Then he did the same with the picture of Thor and Loki, pointing from one man to the other. When Loki _still_ failed to grasp exactly what they had in common, Tony held up his drawing of his mother and pointed almost viciously to himself.

“Parents?” Loki said, and then his face brightened and his voice turned decisive. “ _Family_.”

If Tony could have groaned, he would have.

Love. _Love_. How hard could it be?

He didn’t blame the human, really, but it didn’t make his mood any better. He waved his hand dismissively – _never mind_. He was tired and desperate and he just wanted to rest. Maybe he would wake up with a better idea in the morning, or better yet, maybe Obadiah would mysteriously squelch over dead in the night.

Although that would probably render the wizard’s spells null and void, leaving Tony in the very undesirable circumstance of having a tail on land.

Loki watched silently as Tony gathered up all the things on the floor and set them on the desk, before crawling into bed and pulling the blankets up over his head.

“Tony.” He felt one side of the bed sink a little as Loki sat down beside where he lay curled up out of sight, felt a hand come to rest on his side. “I’m sorry.”

He peeked out from beneath the blankets and met Loki’s eyes, feeling a pang at the sorrow he had put there. Wriggling out into the open, he patted Loki’s hand, but as always, he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say at all. Maybe _it’s okay, you tried_ , or a more optimistic _we’ll figure it out, I’m sure_.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” For someone who had no idea who or what Obadiah was, it was a silly thing to say, but Tony found that he had one more smile in him anyway.

And then Loki promptly ruined the entire moment by saying, “You can’t go to sleep without cleaning your teeth.”

Tony threw him a very dirty glare and burrowed back down under the blankets, only to be bodily dragged out by the taller man. He considered struggling, then just slumped bonelessly in Loki’s grip, tucking his legs up so that they wouldn’t drag on the carpet, forcing Loki to carry him grunting and groaning all the way to the bathroom.

“You’re – _heavy_ ,” Loki snarled, setting Tony down on the toilet, and he shot a cheeky grin at the grumpy expression on the human’s face. _Please_ , he probably outweighed Loki by a mile once his tail was thrown into the mix; this was nothing.

But since he was the one currently at a size disadvantage, he dutifully carried out his nightly rituals before returning to the bed, which was still very slightly warm from his short stint in it a few minutes before. Tucking himself in snugly, he turned to eye Loki with a raised brow.

The prince paused at the expression on Tony’s face, looking torn between his desk and the bed, before finally relenting with some annoyance in his tone. “ _Alright_ , I’m coming to bed – although I’ve been behind on some of my duties ever since _you_ washed up here.”

Tony just grinned anyway, shifting slightly closer once he saw that Loki was settled in as well.

Moonlight streamed palely through the windows, bathing the room in silver. Tony found it soothing – in a way, it reminded him of being underwater, although he was used to a much darker environment at night, especially on days when cloud cover left them swimming in murky gloom.

“I find it very strange,” Loki said suddenly, his voice hushed in the stillness, “to think of you as – as you are, but also as a creature of myth. But you have this aura to you, of innocence, the kind that only exists in legend. Not quite childlike, but more…unicorn-like.”

Loki’s laugh was one of quiet amazement. Tony only smiled faintly into the darkness, not knowing what a unicorn was, but trusting that it was something good anyway. Not that he thought of himself as particularly innocent – he was fairly certain he had been called ‘depraved’ more than once, and by a few different individuals too.

“There is something so _different_ about you – I think that is what made me believe your truth so easily. Even now, I feel like I only half-believe, but at the same time, I _know_ that you are what you say you are. It’s just –” Loki stopped, letting out a quiet breath as his hand found Tony’s, fingers lacing together. “You don’t belong here, Tony. This world, this land – it’s too dangerous for you. I think, after tomorrow, even if you get the chance again, you should keep your tail always.”

This time, it was Loki who moved closer, who wrapped his arms around Tony and pulled him close. Tony buried his face in Loki's chest, eyes wide and heart pounding too hard for sleep to find him.

It wasn’t an ‘I love you,’ not by far, but he thought that right then, those words were just enough for him.

* * *

Tony awoke the next morning unafflicted by any pesky breeding problems, which seemed to bode well for the rest of the day.

Loki rushed off right after breakfast, looking unnaturally on edge, but he grabbed Tony’s arm before he left. “I will return during lunch,” he promised, “and I won’t leave you for the rest of the day. We’ll work it out, Tony.”

He smiled, nodded, and promptly shooed Loki out of the room.

He spent the rest of the morning alternating between flipping uncomprehendingly through a few of Loki’s books and staring out of the open windows as the sea breeze tickled his nostrils.

At most, he had about eight more hours until he had to return to the ocean, and what had he really learned in his time on land?

That humans were strange creatures with complicated anatomy. That, as individuals, they could be kind to strangers even if the societies they created were not. That they had _more_ – more food, dwellings, places, creatures. That they _felt_ more, where even the gentlest touch could produce ecstasy, and because of that, they shied away from contact with others as the merfolk never did.

That, perhaps, he didn’t belong here and never would.

He sat down on the bed and stretched his legs out before him, wiggling his toes and tracing the shape of his calves through his pants, trying to recall the wonder he had first felt upon seeing tan skin and hair where there had once only been hard scales.

It was amazing how quickly he had adapted to having brand new body parts – he felt sure that he could run now, could keep his balance just by the way the ground felt beneath the shifting soles of his feet. And yet they still didn’t feel wholly his, just poor replacements that he had learned how to use but would never fit quite right.

He wondered how he had gone so quickly from a willingness to give his voice just to be able to walk, to a heartsick yearning for his father’s overbearing protectiveness.

The door opened then, and Loki slipped in, looking harried and flustered, although his face brightened when he saw Tony. “Are you alright?” he asked, and Tony nodded somewhat wryly.

“Father threatened to make me crown prince instead of Thor today,” Loki groaned, tumbling into bed beside Tony. “Thor’s face was quite a sight, but Father looked like he was actually being serious about it. I told him that I had quite enough on my plate at the moment, and I was going to move to a neighbouring kingdom if he even said another word about it.”

Tony snorted, perfectly able to picture the shock on the big blonde prince’s face.

“Thor means well, really,” Loki said, grinning at the disbelief on Tony’s face. “He is very beloved among our people because he is always helping them in the fields and dining among them. He will have their support when he is crowned, even if he doesn’t have Sif’s.”

They had lunch soon after, a quiet affair, after which Loki suggested, “I thought that we could go down to the beach once more, until it is time.” His smile was lopsided but resolute, and Tony felt compelled to reply with his best grin of agreement.

He wondered if there was any point in resuming his attempts at an explanation, or if it was already doomed to be an indecipherable farce.

They traipsed down to the beach significantly more dispirited than the day before, although Tony tried to start a conversation by gesturing to the emptiness of the vicinity.

Loki raised a brow at him for a moment, before seeming to understand. “The beach is part of our land, so no one but the royal family is allowed here. It is just that I am the only one who happens to like walking by the ocean.” He flashed a smirk at Tony. “You are lucky that I found you.”

Tony rolled his eyes, pushing half-heartedly at Loki’s shoulder.

This time, they both sat down on the large blanket that Loki spread out, just staring out at the ocean, before the prince turned to Tony. “So,” he started, “what is it that I’m supposed to say to you?”

Tony heaved a sigh with his shoulders and gave a grimace. He thought for a moment, then shook his head.

He was done. What would happen would happen.

Loki faltered at that, his mouth twisting like he wanted to protest, but all he said in the end was, “Do you regret it?”

Tony looked out at the ocean again, then back at the castle that rose up behind them. Sure, he regretted taking the damn wager in the first place, but how could he regret the three days he’d had on land? If he hadn’t lived these three days, he’d still be swimming out there, plotting and scheming, and he would have found another way to do the exact same thing anyway.

It was just who he was. Tony Stark never gave up until he got what he wanted, and he was never afraid to pay the price.

Well, perhaps just a little afraid, but willing all the same.

He could already imagine the cautionary tale he would become – _beware of that old sea wizard, or you’ll turn out just like young Stark_. And anyway, he would be around to tell everyone exactly what it was like to have legs, so they wouldn’t have to wonder anyway. Maybe he would even embellish some of the more unsavoury parts, like their unnatural breeding behaviours, just to frighten any schemes out of the merchildren.

Of course, there was the tiny fact that he would be _mute_ , but he’d figure something out in the end – of that he had no doubt.

Besides, he’d gotten to see more of the human world than anyone else had. There couldn’t be that much more to see, could there? Maybe blindness wasn’t such a terrible price to pay.

He met Loki’s eyes and smiled, small but unwavering, and shook his head.

No regrets. Tony didn’t do regrets.

But he sank into Loki’s embrace when it was offered anyway, closing his eyes and listening to the steady thump-thump of the human’s heart, not so different from his own after all.

“Father brought us on a tour of the lands when we were little,” Loki said after a moment. “It was eye-opening for me – every village we went to, the customs were just a little bit different, the people unique in their own ways. It amazed me, that we could be so different from one another, and yet so similar at the same time. I think that was about when Thor developed his love for travel; it wasn’t always just to shirk his duties.”

Loki laughed, and Tony felt the movement in the human’s chest, against his ear. It was nice, just listening to Loki talk; it was something they hadn’t had much time for. But then, they hadn’t had very much time at all anyway.

“It is just that I always thought that I had seen everything there was to be seen. A prince’s arrogance, you might call it,” Loki continued, and Tony could hear the wry smile in his voice. “But I was wrong, of course. _You_ proved me wrong, with how different you were. I almost couldn’t believe how _strange_ you were – when I found out you were a merman, it was something of a relief. You finally made sense just by not making any sense at all.”

It felt like time was whirling out of control as Loki continued to talk. The sun sank lower and lower in the sky, seeming to grow ever larger in Tony’s eyes, illuminating him, pointing him out for Obadiah to take.

He didn’t realise when Loki fell silent, the moment the edge of the sun seemed to brush the horizon, its light rippling out across the water, reaching for them where they sat. The sea breeze was chillier now, making Loki’s cloak flutter wildly around them, but Tony tilted his head up to the swift-moving currents of air, his eyes half-lidded.

“Tell me,” Loki said urgently, his face a rictus of agony as he pulled Tony around to face him. “Tell me what to say. _Please_.”

Tony touched the prince’s face gently, smoothing the lines of fear away as best he could. It was almost time.

He was going home, so it wasn’t all bad, really.

He allowed himself to be pulled back so that he was leaning against Loki’s shoulder, his head tucked under the prince’s chin, an arm tight across his waist. It was so easy to be idle on land, where they didn’t have to be in a constant state of motion just because their environment demanded it.

He only disentangled himself when the sun was half-visible, getting to his feet and undressing quickly. He could feel Loki following close behind him as he padded across the sand, stopping when he was ankle-deep in the water.

“Tony.” He turned back just as Loki made a wild grab for his hand, the prince stumbling as his boots caught in the sand. “Tony.”

He raised his brows, a silent prompt to speak.

“I just –” The words seemed to catch in Loki’s throat, and he fell still, eyes locked on Tony’s.

Tony cocked his head, watching as the prince’s gaze flitted from the setting sun and back to him, his eyes seeming to glow ever brighter in the wash of illumination.

“ _I love you_ ,” Loki blurted suddenly, and Tony was sure he felt his brows completely disappear into his hairline.

“I didn’t want you to go without – I don’t know if these kinds of things are even important to you, to your people. But what you are – you are something beautiful, something _hopeful_. You are so…beyond us, and I love you for what you are, and _who_ you are, but also what you’ve given to me. Just the knowledge that you exist out there, it’s wonderful, truly.”

The briefest flash of hesitation appeared on Loki’s face, blending with an expression already awash with a curious mix of amazement and despair, before he forged on. “And – I think if we’d had more time, I could have loved you in...in another way. But for what it’s worth, I do, I do love you.”

The human fell silent, breathing hard from the force of his words.

Tony shook his head, speechless, and then he surged up to meet Loki’s mouth with his. The prince grabbed him around the waist reflexively, lips parting.

They were passionate and soft, desperate and gentle, a single kiss to encompass everything they had been and could never be.

Tony was grinning through his tears when they parted, even as he began to walk backwards into the waves.

“Thanks, Loki.”

And he had the pleasure of watching Loki’s mouth fall open before he began to swim out to sea in earnest, wanting to gain some depth before the transformation. He was ready to go home.

He turned back once, and saw the human still standing at the border of both their worlds, the edge of his cloak trailing forlornly in the saltwater. He raised an arm, and Loki raised his in return.

It took place in an instant, and he knew the moment the legs that had never really been his fused into one, felt the surging strength in his torso, took a gulp of air that could no longer sustain him. He fell backwards, plunging deeper with every stroke of his powerful tail.

Then he turned and sped for the surface, leaping up and out as gloriously as he knew how, and he knew that despite the dying light, Loki would see him, droplets of water showering silver off his gleaming scales, blood-red in the fast-approaching darkness.

He landed with hardly a splash, angling for deeper waters and making for home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm simultaneously happy and unhappy with this? I actually love the final, like, four paragraphs, but I'm still wrestling with the 'man that ending was so contrived' feeling.
> 
> But a fairytale is a fairytale is a fairytale, is what I'm telling myself, so there's that!


End file.
